


My Memory is Not Like the Other One

by unusualhat305



Category: Yellow Submarine (1968)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Badtles AU, Found Family, Gen, His blueness himself is very concerned about Jeremy, Jeremy has mixed feelings about nowhere land, Tags May Change, Warnings May Change, so is everyone honestly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25131388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unusualhat305/pseuds/unusualhat305
Summary: When a more blue than usual Chief Blue Meanie shows up on the Beatles doorstep asking for their help, the four know there's something seriously wrong. It was time for them to save Pepperland again! But where is Jeremy? And why does the Chief seem so nervous around them?
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue: Color Theory

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This fic is based on the Badtles AU made by the lovely today-pepperland-goes-bluey on Tumblr (you'll know them as IGotAHoleInMePocket on here!) and I really like it so I thought I'd try my hand at writing something for it :D
> 
> I'm a new writer so feedback is greatly appreciated!

It's funny how your perception of the world can change in a day, isn't it?

Of course, Jeremy had a lot of experience with change. Or at least, he did _now_. It's a lot to go from living in the middle of nowhere- quite literally- to being whisked through the seas in a yellow submarine. Jeremy wasn't going to complain though, yellow was a nice change from unmoving, blank, white walls. Speaking of color, Pepperland (where he now lived after the Beatles left) was full of it! Blues, reds, greens, there were so many! In the beginning, he had to use flashcards to memorize all of their names. By now, he was starting to get the hang of it, except for teal, he's still not sure if teal is a shade of blue or green. In any case, it was a good thing he was getting used to it since color seemed to be a big thing about Pepperland.

It made sense, because of the psychedelic skies that would have been unimaginable to Jeremy just a few months ago. Something that surprised Jeremy was that people apparently _felt_ things about colors. One day as he was listening to one of the many concerts Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band liked to put on (sounds! there were a whole lot of those too) from his seat under a tree, a small child came up to him and asked him about colors. It was a funny thing, children tended to think of him as some sort of overgrown cat, to the point where they'd yell "kitty!" and run over to him. They'd get disappointed when he'd tell them he didn't like to be pet, but they were always so curious about him, mostly they wanted to know "why he talked so funny" or what Ph.D. meant. Jeremy didn't mind a whole lot, he liked talking to people, especially after so long... well... not talking. Anyways, this one loudly proclaimed that his favorite color was red and asked Jeremy what his favorite color was with a big, gap-toothed grin. It was interesting, Jeremy thought of all sorts of things from botany to dentistry, but he'd never once thought about favorite colors. He didn't even know that you could _have_ a favorite color. 

He doesn't quite remember what he said to the child, probably a long answer about how all colors are lovely, but he wasn't focused on the child anymore. Instead, his brain had latched on to the term "favorite color" for whatever reason and wouldn't let go. This wasn't unusual, Jeremy's mind latched on to things all the time. Normally he'd read whatever books he could find on the subject, but looking for books on favorite colors seemed... silly. However, Jeremy was a very thorough nowhere man, one who had a lot of time on his hands.

"Cacao, cacti, camembert... ah! Color! A comprehensive study by Mack Wilburt!" Jeremy rhymed to himself. He'd been looking through the c's in the Pepperland Library for quite some time. He'd adamantly refused to go to the children's section and now found himself looking through the real world section. The secretary was more than happy to tell him where he might find what he was looking for, but she couldn't walk him to the section seeing as she was a giant bookworm and wouldn't be able to go through the shelves without knocking something over. It'd taken Jeremy ages to find the book he was holding in the maze of bookshelves adorning the walls, and he hoped it would be what he was looking for. He took a paw and skillfully flipped through the pages.

"Color use, color design, color theory, but none of this answers my query!" he sighed and closed the book.

"Can I help you?" a gentle voice asked. Jeremy spun around quickly to find what looked to be an owl. She might've towered over Jeremy, but she looked motherly and kind. Like she would bake cookies for storytime for kids, kind of like a hug if given human- or in this case large, anthropomorphic owl- form. A nametag on her chest read "Martha" with colorful stickers put around the edges.

Jeremy realized she was still waiting for his answer. He hastily closed the book and stuttered,  
"U-uh yes! I'm looking for a book on color, you see this one has made me quite dolor, so I would like another..." He trailed off, he was never very good at conversation, he'd never had much practice with it. Fortunately, the owl smiled at him.

"Alright I think I can do that," she chuckled softly, "As a librarian, I enjoy hearing someone rhyme like that," She gestured with her wing to follow her. Jeremy followed very closely, feeling rather like a child following his mother around at a supermarket. She chatted aimlessly about Pepperland and how most of the people she helps are students looking for the same books over and over again for summer reading. Jeremy didn't really understand what summer reading was, but it sounded intriguing to him. Eventually, they got to a brightly colored area that Jeremy recognized as the children's section. He was about to protest that he had a doctorate in English when she opened her beak to say,

"You know, it's alright to get books from the children's section from time to time. They're meant to explain things in a simple, straightforward way, and sometimes you just need a simple answer," she plucked a few books about colors off of the shelf. 

She handed them to Jeremy and asked, "Is there anything else I can help with?"

Jeremy shook his head. She laughed gently again,  
"No need to be so nervous! I'm not going to bite your head off or anything. Well, unless you tear out the pages in my books, then I might,"  
She smiled softly when she saw Jeremy's mortified expression at hearing he could be ripped tooth from claw by a giant owl. (Which was NOT high on his list of priorities for the day).

"Only joking," She said with a wink and walked off. Jeremy sat down on one of the comfy-looking beanbag chairs and began to read. Some of the books were about naming what colors were, and he found himself wishing he had those books when he had to memorize what the colors were. Others were educational stories about the basics of color theory, and Jeremy ended up finding those rather helpful, especially the bit about complementary colors. But one book at the very bottom of the pile was a story about how most people have a favorite color, and that was exactly what Jeremy was looking for. Apparently, people have favorite colors for lots of reasons, from just liking the way it looks to having an emotional connection with it. That last bit stuck out to Jeremy, but he didn't realize why until he got to the last page. There wasn't a whole lot to it, just a bunch of color splotches on the page and some text asking the reader what their favorite color is, but one of the colors stuck out to him.

A bright yellow spot. The same color as the submarine.

It brought him back to the Beatles, who'd given him the closest thing he's ever had to a fa-

 _No that's just wishful thinking_. He stopped his train of thought with that interjection. He'd spent more nights than he'd like to admit crying over how he'd never see them again. Somehow, even though he wasn't in nowhere land anymore, he felt even more lonely without them than he ever did when he was a nowhere man. He put the books back, for better or worse he knew what his favorite color was now.

That specific shade of yellow, the color of friendship.

It was weeks before he thought of colors again, and that's when his view of the world changed.

He was napping under a tree one day when he heard excited screaming coming from the bandshell. Assuming it was just another concert he tried to fall back asleep. But finally, he sighed and started walking over to the noise when the screams seemed to only be getting louder. In the distance though, he spotted it.

His favorite color.

He went as fast as he could towards it until he spotted something... strange. A little voice in the back of his head reminded him about complementary colors as he looked at what his friends were wearing. 

The colors were wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this fic comes from a lyric in the song Hotrod by Dayglow since I love that song and thought that lyric in particular related a bit to this fic!


	2. Could You Tell Me What’s Real?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place a couple of weeks after the prologue. An important note: the ys Beatles are not closely based on their real life counterparts, nor are they meant to be them or be like them at all (if that makes sense). They’re a separate entity, so if any of this seems OOC to real life then now you know why :). Once again, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

"How do they even fly this thing?" The Chief grumbled as he hit the control panel again, causing sparks to fly, "And will that siren _shut UP_!"  
That siren was blaring loudly as he maneuvered around the controls, the screens were red and flashing.

He pressed a few more buttons with a six-fingered hand before the siren finally stopped. A sign rotated into place, much like a bus sign, that read "LIVERPOOL" in large capital letters. He sighed in relief and leaned back against the wall, at least he was a little closer to his goal. He giggled to himself, but there wasn't any humor behind it. He'd gone all this way, even stolen their submarine because of a hunch, boy he'd outdone himself this time. _What if you're wrong?_ An unhelpful voice at the back of his head supplied, _what if this really is their submarine and those... monsters really were them?_ He shook his head to clear it. There was no point dwelling on what could happen, he just needed to keep reminding himself of that. He looked at his hands, the two outermost fingers had matching bruises on them, causing him to grimace. He really hoped he was right.

The submarine landed itself about as inconspicuously as a submarine could. Which, unsurprisingly, wasn't that inconspicuous. Liverpool was so colorless compared to Pepperland, it reminded him a lot of his home. He remembered what Jeremy had told him about where _those four_ supposedly lived. It had been a long time since that conversation, he wasn't sure he could remember all the directions Jeremy had told him. Since they were second hand, he wasn't even sure if they were right in the first place. He also tried not to wince thinking about Jeremy, he'd been so excited talking to the Chief like nobody ever had before him. Normally an emotion he didn't know the name of (emotions were tricky when all you used to feel was hate) bubbled up when he thought of Jeremy, but now it was just painful. 

_Eyes on the prize, no distractions_ he reminded himself. As he followed the directions he remembered, he spotted some of the people he was passing stare at him. It was almost as if they'd never seen a blue meanie before! Ignoring them, he kept walking until he found himself at the address he was looking for. He took a deep breath before he knocked on the door. A voice inside managed to both make his stomach pool with dread and relief at the same time.

The door opened, a smiling Ringo was on the other side, "Sorry about that, how can I help y..." he started cheerfully but trailed off before he finished the sentence. Slowly looking up into his eyes, he looked confused. The Chief's heart was absolutely pounding in his chest out of nerves, even though he'd been right.

"Pepperland needs your help," He said.

~~~

Of all the people to be on the other side of the door, the Chief certainly wasn't who Ringo would've expected to see.

He'd expected the milkman, he'd not been 'round yet today. Or maybe a newspaper boy had knocked the door to let them know the paper was on their doorstep, something mundane enough to fit into Ringo's life. Definitely not a sad-looking blue meanie with wilted flowers in his fur and hands behind his back telling him Pepperland needed their help again. To be perfectly honest Ringo didn't know how to respond. How does one respond to a situation like this anyway? So, he did what he did with unexpected human guests:

"Well, I'm sure you've traveled a long way, fancy coming inside for a cuppa?" The Chief nodded, and Ringo tried not to think about how he might not even know what a cuppa is. Still, he pressed on and passed John in the hall.

"I'm just heading to the store Rings d'ya need anythin- oh hello your blueness- wait why are you pushing me back inside?" he rambled

"You're not going anywhere right now John, this is important," Ringo told him as he rotated him around and walked him back inside. At the coffee table sat George and Paul on the same couch, already nursing their own cups.

Without looking up, Paul spoke, "Well, that was quick, John. Did you remember to get the kale I asked for?"

"Uhh, maybe you should look up Paul," John said. Paul did so, and his eyebrows flew up when he saw the Chief standing there, sort of looking like a child who doesn't know where his mother is at a McDonald's Playplace. Paul was clearly at a loss for what to do, and his mind must have gone to the same place Ringo's did since what he said next was:

"Well, the kettle's just boiled. Why don't you go make him a cup Ritchie,"  
Ringo nodded and went into the kitchen. He must've gone on autopilot as before he knew it, he was back in the living room, three cups balanced in his hand. John had joined the other two on the couch (they all liked to sit on that couch at the same time, despite the perfectly good chairs surrounding it) and, it was clear that none of them had spoken to the Chief yet. George didn't seem to care a whole lot, but George's facial expressions were never a great way to tell what he was thinking. John and Paul, on the other hand, looked quite awkward and were looking anywhere except the Chief. Ringo placed the mugs on the table and took his place in the middle of the couch. The Chief was still standing and looking like a lost puppy. Ringo frowned and made note of the fact his hands were still behind his back. Ringo would've laughed if he hadn't wanted to not hurt his feelings.

"You can sit down if you want," He said gently, "We're not going to hurt you, we invited you in here after all," Something about Ringo's words caused the Chief to stiffen. He gave a tight nod and sat down on one of the farther chairs, frowning and lifting his hand up to show dust. Ringo frowned again when he noticed matching bruises on the outermost fingers on both of his hands.

"So," John started, "What's all this about then," The Chief seemed to think about what he was going to say before leaning forward.

"Pepperland needs your help," He finally said, repeating what he said at the door, his normally sing-songy voice flatter than usual.

Paul snickered, "We got that much, dear," but he was cut off before he could continue by Ringo giving him a look.

To his surprise, the Chief didn't seem to react at all to his words. He looked nervous but also unsurprised. It didn't make any sense to Ringo, he didn't like it when things didn't make sense to him.

"Could you... um... would you mind explaining exactly what's happened?" Ringo pressed. It was almost as if he was trying to console a child who would burst into tears at any moment.

The Chief sighed, "You know I don't really understand what's happened either, but let's say some... monsters have... attacked Pepperland and you need to get rid of them,"

"We're used to hearing about that by this point," John quipped before he could stop himself. He covered his mouth in shock and shot an apologetic look to the Chief. The Chief's ears curled back more than they already had been (huh, Ringo hadn't noticed his ears until now) like a dog after hearing a loud noise.

"I'm still sorry about that," He mumbled before going back to his normal pitch, "Well, will you help us?"

Ringo looked at the mug in his hands, he took a sip before looking at the Chief's mug, which was still on the table.

"How did you get here?" George spoke up for the first time, everyone looked to him suddenly, "We've still got the submarine, and there's no other way to get to Liverpool,"

The Chief seemed hesitant to respond, "I stole the submarine- actually a submarine, I wasn't aware there were two,"

The four of them went quiet, they were a little shocked by this information, two submarines? The Chief's lower lip quivered like someone's does before they're about to cry.

"Please help, you don't understand, we need you, _I need you_ to help," He shouted, causing everyone to jump, before he calmed his heavy breathing and said in a very quiet voice, "Jeremy is missing,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song Can I Call You Tonight? By Dayglow since apparently using Dayglow lyrics as chapter titles is just how the cookie is crumbling I guess


	3. Sea of Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always feedback is greatly appreciated :)  
> Sorry this one is a little shorter than the others, the ones after this will be longer than this one I promise :)

It was safe to say George knew Ringo well enough by this point to tell when something got to him. What kind of friend would he be if he couldn't? The tricky thing with Ringo was he didn't express negative emotions too much, George thinks that must be why he's such a damn ray of sunshine all the time. It took a lot of practice to know his tells, and George was a little proud of knowing them, just in case his friend needs someone to talk to. The most important thing to note is that Ringo "shuts down" when he's upset, there aren't overreactions and angry voices, but George can still see the tells. He can see how his breathing hitches, just for a moment. How his eyes look anywhere except at who's talking, and his ordinarily steady hands tremble slightly. He knew them all, and he was currently seeing them as he looked at Ringo now.

You could see the small waves in the tea from Ringo's shaking hand as he put it down. Before George could ask if Ringo was okay, John piped up.

"Missing? What do you mean missing?" He asked, his tone laced with disbelief. It was almost as if he wanted the Chief to burst into tears, but George knew it was just a little hard for him to read the room sometimes.

Before the Chief had to say anything, Paul scoffed, "Well, it's obvious innit? He's somewhere we're not," John glared at him, and Paul shot a smug look right back at him. 

"Let's go find him then," A small voice on the other side of the couch murmured. It might as well have been a thundercrack, the reaction was the same. Three heads whirled around to look at Ringo as if that was the most outlandish thing he could've said. George wasn't surprised, he knew all about the mind and had expected Ringo to be upset by the news of Jeremy.

"You're joking, right? He hasn't even told us what the problem _is_ yet, _he_ could be lying to us to try and trap us, he _is_ a blue meanie after all," John told him. He didn't even look at the Chief, or he'd have noticed his pained expression.

Ringo sighed and picked his teacup up again, George noted that the tremble had gotten worse.

"It doesn't matter, we're going," He said matter-of-factly. 

While John was busy making expressions of shock, Paul took the opportunity to express his opinion.

"Well, there's four of us, right?" He paused and appeared to mull it over, "Let's take a vote on it,"

The other two (mostly John) grumbled in displeasure, and George decided he'd been quiet for long enough.

"I agree with Ringo," He said, and pointedly ignored John's betrayed facial expression, "Jeremy is our friend, we should help him, and we can't just leave Pepperland with no help can we,"

There was a long discussion between John and Paul that followed, with John trying desperately to get Paul to take his side. It ended up with Paul doing the opposite, and they now found themselves outside in a typical Liverpudlian drizzle. George straightened his collar against the cold and fell into step with Ringo. He'd been hunched over himself walking behind the others as long as they'd been out there. He had his hands in his pockets, he was blinking very rapidly like he was holding back tears. 

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation, George quipped, "Thought you looked kind of lonely back here,"

"You don't need to walk with me, Geo, I'm a grown man. I'm fine," Ringo mumbled, trying to play it off as a joke by turning and smiling at George. This sort of excuse didn't work on George, he knew when Ringo was hurting.

George frowned, "Ringo, it's okay to be upset about Jeremy, I don't want you to think you have to bottle your emotions away around me,"

Ringo seemed to consider this for a moment and then sighed. It seemed as though that sigh was like a dam breaking because tears started streaming down his face.

"I-I know it shouldn't get to me this much but-," He took a deep breath before continuing, "I can't stop thinking about him all alone who knows where. Not to mention whatever monsters the Chief described are after him. And I... I just left him there. We haven't been back in half a year, George! He must think I've- we've forgotten him," he took a shaky breath, it appeared he couldn't say anything else, he just kept crying.

George wrapped an arm around his shoulders reassuringly. "Rings it's all in-"

"George, I know, "It's all in the mind" I know I'm overthinking this. But... I can't help but think what if he _hates_ me? I abandoned him after all," Ringo sobbed.

George stopped them in their tracks and turned Ringo to face him. Ringo's eyeliner was leaving dark trails down his cheeks. "Look, I'm not wrong when I'm telling you it's all in your mind, am I? The truth is you won't know how he feels until you go down there and ask him, so the way I see it is you might as well stop worrying about it. The universe is as it is, no matter what you think or feel. There's nothing you can do now, so don't beat yourself up over it, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Ringo nodded, and George smiled at him.

"Can you two lovebirds hurry up? I don't want my feet to be blocks of ice by the time we get to the submarine!" A disgruntled John called back at them.

Ringo chuckled as he wiped the marks off his face "We'd better do as he says, ice for feet sounds pretty serious,"

George laughed with him as they walked to the submarine, and at that moment, all he could think about was how glad he was that he learned Ringo's tells.


	4. Maybe I’m Not all you Thought

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a longer chapter to make up for the last one. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated :)

"Honestly, those two go into their own little world sometimes," John grumbled to Paul. They'd been walking for about ten minutes at this point, which would've been fine if Liverpool wasn't Liverpool. Why couldn't they live somewhere that actually had decent weather instead of rain eight days a week? In any case, it didn't excuse John's moping through the whole walk, he could be a bit dramatic sometimes, and Paul huffed in annoyance.

"I know you're cold, but you don't need to get annoyed at everyone, y'know," Paul said, not noticing how hypocritical he was being, "If _someone_ hadn't parked the submarine so far away we'd be in the sea by now,"

John didn't answer him directly, he just growled to himself and drew his face into his scarf like a turtle into its shell. Paul laughed, he knew John didn't like it when he used his past choices against him. They'd parked the submarine on top of one of the taller buildings in the city. It had seemed like a good idea at first. Since according to John: _We can't have people going to the police about illegal submarine parking, let's hide it somewhere nobody would think to look. We don't need_ another _reason to go to court_. Nobody had disagreed with him, but in hindsight, it was very inconvenient to walk (Ringo didn't want them destroying the back of his car). Everyone was feeling very miserable after only half of it. Well, everyone except the Chief and his thick fur. That thought made Paul realize the Chief hadn't said a word since back at the flat, so he fell into step with him and let John lead.

"Say, how did you get here? I thought you could only get to Liverpool from Pepperland by submarine," Paul asked him. The Chief looked at him with a confused expression tinged with what looked like fear, which Paul didn't expect.

After realizing Paul wasn't joking and actually wanted to know, the Chief started quietly, "Well... I _did_ come here by submarine,"

Now it was Paul's turn to be confused, "But... I thought our submarine was the only one,"

"Well, it isn't," The Chief replied and then quickly covered his mouth in shock. Paul was _really_ perplexed now, weren't they friends? The Chief is allowed to joke around him, what's changed? Looking closer, Paul noticed the Chief looked genuinely terrified, but there was something else, too. The outermost fingers on both of his hands (the equivalent of a pinkie) were bruised. Paul reached out gently without thinking, and the Chief flinched away. Paul drew his hand back in surprise like he'd been burned.

He started, "Hey, Chief? Your hands look pretty bad, is there something you're not telling us?" He flinched again when he heard Paul say his hands looked bad. He shook his head and kept walking, a little faster, so he was in front of Paul, who just stood there stunned until he heard a voice speak.

"Hey, Paul! Did John's whining finally get on your nerves enough to come and join us?" Ringo said, cheerfully. He looked loads happier than he had at their flat. George was smiling too next to Ringo, Paul guessed he'd had something to do with Ringo's sudden change in temperament.

"Kind of," He paused before asking, "Have either of you noticed something... off about the Chief?" George shook his head, but Ringo piped up.

"Yes, I have. He's got some odd sort of bruises on his fingers, did ya see?" George shook his head again.

Paul replied slowly, "I did see that, and I tried to confront him, but he won't talk to me. Let's be careful around him, there's something he's not telling us,"

Before any of them could say anything, John yelled at them, "Seriously? Not you too, Paul! We're here, you'd better hurry up, or we'll leave without you!"

Paul did as he said, the Chief's scared expression dancing behind his eyes all the while.

~~~

He couldn't tell them, he just _couldn't_!

The Chief repeated this mantra over and over, feeling nausea bubble up every time he looked over at John. It had been so painful to hear their disbelieving voices back at their home, his interactions with... _them_ kept on rushing to be in the front and center of his mind. He couldn't even think their names without feeling sick, how could he tell them? He knew Jeremy wouldn't approve of him being selfish, but _Jeremy wasn't here_. 

And if Jeremy wasn't here, then there was nothing to stop him from being as selfish as he liked. He'd do whatever made _himself_ feel comfortable.

So he repeated the mantra to himself over the submarine ride and hoped that he'd eventually believe it himself.

~~~

The first thing Paul noticed about Pepperland was how lifeless it was. 

It wasn't the same kind of lifelessness he'd seen when the blue meanies had invaded, oh no, this was much more sinister. When the blue meanies had attacked, there were frozen people everywhere, and no color, you could tell what had happened. Now? It was as if everyone had just up and vanished. Paul found it very eerie.

"Hello? Anyone home?" John called out and then turned to the others with a shrug when he heard no response. They walked out of the submarine and looked around. Except for the Chief, who said he felt safer in the submarine. There was no evidence of anything wrong- except for there being nobody around, that is- it still looked like cheery old Pepperland to Paul.

But not to Ringo, it seemed, when he shouted, "Hey, I think I found something," the other three went over to him.

"I don't see anything Rings, what do you mean you found something?" Paul asked. Ringo didn't respond, he just lifted his hand slightly to point at a flower, its petals were burnt. Paul reached down to touch it, and it fell into ash in his hand.

John spoke, "That's quite odd innit? Who would do such a thing?" Without warning, they heard the sound of a rubber ball hitting the ground and footsteps running away. They turned around and saw a red ball rolling on the ground towards them.

John picked it up and turned it around in his hands, examining it, "Huh, why would a child run away so fast that they forget a nice ball like this?"  
He queried, before tossing the ball over to Paul, who decided to keep it with him in case they ran into the owner. They walked down the main road through the buildings that were always so full of happy people and monsters going about their daily business. It felt strange, like walking around a school building at night, somehow _wrong_. All the establishments had shuttered windows and locked doors, even the coffee shop! Well, all except for one. The library was mysteriously open.

"Hello?" Paul said tentatively as they all peered inside. They pushed the door open farther and walked inside. It had a nice smell, a mixture of old books, new books, and... cookies? And of course, it was covered wall to wall with books. As they walked farther in, they all got distracted by those very books. John found one on quantum theory or whatever nonsense he was reading nowadays. George found one on spirituality despite the fact he probably knew everything contained within it. As they walked further within, they found themselves in a colorful area with small shelves that appeared to be the source of the cookie smell that Paul supposed was the children's section. Ringo curiously picked up a book about colors that had been left on a small table and flicked through it absentmindedly.

Without really noticing what he was doing, Paul's hand reached towards a random book on the shelf. Paul was always touching things he was curious about, it was a small habit he'd picked up. But unfortunately for Paul, he suddenly felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was pushed sideways. It felt like a small car had just steamrolled him over.

Dizzy, as his eyes adjusted to the new position he was in, he looked up to see a large winged creature with glowing eyes shriek at him. It pinned his shoulder with a large talon and spoke,

"I thought I explained what would happen if you came back here after doing what you did. Clearly, it wasn't enough," The creature hissed. Still groggy, Paul didn't have time to react as he felt the weight on his shoulder quickly lift up as the creature was pushed off of him.

"You get off him right this instant!" He heard John cry out and looked over to see it was him that pushed the beast off him. Or... owl which was now lying in a heap to the side.

Ringo stepped in and turned the owl over, "Hey now, what's all this? I'm sorry, did we scare you? We didn't mean to, we'll be on our way if you'd like," he said gently.

The owl turned its head around, looking just as disoriented as Paul felt.

"Is this some kind of sick joke you four are playing? You know exactly what _he_ did," she said as she picked herself off the ground and brushed herself down with her wings, "I'd suggest you go before I follow through on my promise, this is your last strike,"

Without looking, Ringo held out his arm to stop John from moving closer, John looked like he was seething. 

Ringo started off again, talking as if he were trying not to scare a spooked animal. Which, Paul supposed the owl- "Martha" as her nametag read, and Paul was instantly reminded with a pang in his heart of his dog back home- was indeed a spooked animal. 

"There must be some sort of mistake, you see we haven't even been in this library before today. We're looking for our friend, his name is Jeremy, do you know him?" he asked.

Recognition briefly flashed across Martha's face before her brow furrowed, and she swiveled her head to look at Paul.

She sighed, "I wish it was a mistake, but there's no mistaking his face, especially not after seeing him tear seven whole books page from page. There's no mistaking _your_ face either, I've heard about the things you four have done. While I can only kick out _him_ , I'm not going to believe a word someone like _you_ says,"

Paul felt an idea bloom in his head, he pulled out the ball he'd been carrying around and lifted it up to show her.

"Here, we found this ball on the ground outside, and don't know who it belongs to. If we go, can you at least make sure it gets back to its owner? We really didn't mean to cause any harm..." He trailed off, John was muttering something under his breath about the fall, and how it made a few screws go loose in Paul's head. Fortunately for Paul, though, his plan appeared to have worked, as Martha seemed shocked (but in a good way) by the gesture.

"I have no way of telling if you stole this off of Phillip but... that's not something I'd have expected you to do. Have you had a change of heart?"

Paul smiled, "I've always been like this, love," John rolled his eyes. Ringo started up again, noticing how the owl had seemed to relax, all thanks to his famous McCartney charm.

"Can you... can you help us find Jeremy? I saw you react when I said his name, and I've been really worried about him, so if you knew anything..." he trailed off to prevent himself from going on a long schpeel. 

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, but I haven't seen him since right after you four turned up,"

"She's lying~ She knows exactly where he is," Paul heard John say in a sing-songy voice. He turned to glare at him.

"Why on earth would you think that, John?" Paul asked irritably. John looked as pale as a sheet

He said very slowly, "I... I didn't say that Paul,"

"Oh but I did!" John's voice said with a laugh.

They all turned around to see... John standing there, but he wasn’t John at the same time.

He laughed again, but his eyes were cold, "What? You five look like you've seen a ghost!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of very loosely based Martha the librarian off of Wan Shi Tong from ATLA (just the owl librarian part) since he scared me when I was a kid and now that’s what I think of when I think of librarians


	5. Lookalike

John had seen a lot of strange things in his life, for better or for worse. They'd made it so that nothing really surprised him anymore, and that was good in John's opinion. But nothing he'd seen before could've prepared him for turning around and seeing himself standing there.

Said mimic had now walked up to them, grinning from ear to ear as if he knew a joke that the rest of them didn't. He looked at John,

"You seem a little _familiar_ , I recognize you from somewhere," He tapped his chin as if he were pondering something, "Oh, I've got it! You're the bastard who's ruining my reputation, I must say I wear our face a whole lot better than you do," He smirked at John, who stood there, frozen.

John frowned, "I think we both know that's not true. Who are you? And why do you have my face?"

John laughed, "I could ask you the same question! Oh except I already know who you are, but that won't matter if you stay here long enough,"

"And what do you mean by that?" John asked.

"All in good time, dear," John replied.

Paul interjected, "As if having just one of you wasn't annoying enough, now we have to deal with two of you giving vague answers?"

The other John quickly turned around and gave Paul a glare that could freeze lava. Before he put on that cloyingly sweet smile again and walked over to Paul, slowly.

"Awww, it talks! Tell me, do you have any other bright observations, Paul?" He said, looking down at Paul, who was still on the floor. John noted that Paul seemed genuinely nervous, John guessed Paul didn't really know how to react in a situation like this. John supposed the possible concussion didn't help either. John fought the urge to step between Paul and... _him_ , and watched.

Paul swallowed his nerves, and frowned, "I observe you're not being very insightful about why you're here and why you look like my best friend,"

"Well, since you asked so _nicely_ , I'll tell you! You see, you're on our turf so to speak. We've spent a lot of time and effort getting this place spruced up to our liking, and we can't have you ruining it all by being kind to everyone. No, no, no, that won't do at all! So I'm here to give you your one and only warning: get out. We don't want you here, and if you don't leave, there _will_ be consequences. Do you understand?"

Ringo made the poor decision of piping up, "Your turf? But we-"

 _John_ shushed him, much like a teacher would a misbehaving child, "Not now _sweetie_ , the grown-ups are talking," Ringo was clearly taken aback, and George spoke up to defend him,

"You can't just come in here like you own the place and talk to him like that!"

 _John_ chuckled, "Can't I? I don't see why not, someone has to remind him of his place,"

John had enough by this point, "I think you should leave, we'll keep what you said in mind, but we don't want any trouble, and there will be trouble if you don't go,"

His mimic smiled at him, "Alright, I rather like trouble, but if you _insist_. Keep what I said in mind, you have two hours to leave Pepperland before trouble finds you. Ta!" And with that, he walked out the door.

"Well, that was certainly odd," Paul grumbled.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," George replied, "What did you think, John?"

John realized he had been staring into space. He did that often.

"He never explained who he was," He said finally.

Ringo shrugged, "Who cares? Let's just find Jeremy and get out of here,"

They all turned to the owl, who'd been standing there, largely ignored the whole time.

She sighed, "I can't really help you, but I'll at least give you his house address, we keep it on record in case someone hasn't returned a book, and we can send a letter asking for it back,"

"Well, would you mind getting a copy of it for us, please?" Ringo asked.

The owl laughed, "It makes sense that there are two versions of you, it's night and day! I never would've expected you, or rather _him_ to say 'please' it's so clear now. Anyways, I don't keep paper records, it's too hard to write with wings and talons, I keep them all in here," She gestured to her head, "His address is 1188 Pepper Boulevard, you can't miss it! I hope you find him, I miss seeing him poke around in here," And with that, she receded into the library.

"Well, let's get going then," Ringo said as he pushed past them, and John could've sworn he looked angrier than he'd seen him in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate Badtle John a whole lot, haha


End file.
